Pure Coincidence
by NotANerd133
Summary: In which Bruce and Natasha are bitter exes until the one night he actually decides to do something about it. Brutasha. College AU.


_**Story: Pure Coincidence**_

 _ **Genre: Drama/Romance**_

 _ **Pairing: Brutasha**_

 _ **Summary: In which Bruce and Natasha are bitter exes until the one night he actually decides to do something about it. Brutasha. College AU.**_

 _ **A/N- When I get really into a pairing, I write the most ridiculous things. Enjoy my ridiculousness!**_

* * *

She reminded Bruce how fucked up love was for him.

There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. In truth, she represented the dark and light side of what real love was like. He remembers comparing her actions to the Bible: Love is patient, love is kind. See, what the Bible doesn't tell you in its description is how false that statement is. Well, false in his book anyway. She was patient and kind, but the loved they shared wasn't.

Depending on the day (stupid, he knows), the love part varied. Sometimes, they were bitter enemies on two complete different sides of the spectrum. Other times, they simply cared deeply for each other like a married couple would. They were constantly switching back and forth, pulling forcefully like it was a tug-o-war. Bruce gets the deep end of the stick; nothing about the romance ended good for him because he didn't allow it to happen, knew the consequences before they occurred.

And it's probably the main reason why he keeps her seeing around campus under the shade spot that used to be theirs.

Her eyes are closed, her mouth partly opened, while the tree's leaves blow in the wind. She has her red hair in a messy bun, her square rimmed glasses on the tip of her cute nose, black sweatpants and tank top on in the spring heat. He passes her by when he's riding on his bike down the path. Most days, her slumber is never interrupted and he's able to stare without her glaring at him like she would if she were awake. But today— _fucking today_ —is when all hell just breaks loose.

Like, he's practically admiring her sleeping form, when, as if sensing his gaze, her eyes snapped open and—

Wall. He...slammed his bike (his now very in need of a repair bike) into a _wall_. The pitiful looks as he lays sprawled on the ground from his fellow college peers sends him over the edge.

"Keep walking!"

Her voice is all he hears. "Why would they? Clearly, you've created quite the spectacle."

She towers over him now, green orbs possessing slight mischievousness in them, luscious lips smirking. He hates it.

"Natasha!" she hears some guy, sounds like Steve Rogers, calling her name. She turns her attention back on Bruce. "Don't you just love fate?"

He sits up, leaning on his elbows, saying, "Fate? More like coincidence."

She runs off to Steve who...puts his arm around her, his blue eyes staring at Bruce in wonder. Oh, why did he humiliate himself in front of her perfect ass new boyfriend?

Stupidity. He must have been drunk on his daily dose of stupidity.

 _'''_

Tony tears him a new one when Bruce crashes on their couch in their campus dorm. "Stared at Natasha again?"

He nodded.

"Dude! Get back in the game and go out again! I heard Betty Ross was available."

Bruce punched his pillow as gave his reply. "Dated— _punch_ —her— _punch_ —in the past."

Betty Ross was an ex-girlfriend and ex-friend of his. After all, her father hated him and their relationship so it was doomed to fail. As far as he knew, the army brat was probably dating some other guy who Bruce didn't give two shits about.

Natasha crossed his mind ever so often, appearing in his dreams a lot, and being everywhere and anywhere all at once. It was fate that kept bringing them together. He thought this was inconceivable, unbelievably fucking crazy. It always had been. They were meant to be like prince and princesses in the fairy tales he used to read as a young boy (don't judge him, he was bored). Bruce knew that, he kept thinking that.

He hoped she did sometimes too.

 _'''_

Another week passes in a blur and Bruce can't help but ponder where the time went.

When did nothing start making no sense? When did he become the guy who hated social gatherings? Didn't he enjoy those at some point in his pathetic excuse of a life? His major, mechanical science, isn't that much of a thrill. Only thing interesting about it was the numerous formulas and patterns and his best friend Tony Stark constantly challenging him to do the weirdest experiments. Other than that, his life seemed relatively boring.

It's all her damn fault.

If he and Natasha were still together, he wouldn't be sulking so much or feeling emptiness in his heart. Why did she have to choose Steve of all people over him? What did Steve have that Bruce didn't?

 _He's committed and you're not. Simple as that._

When he was young, his parents divorced, leaving him with his mother to raise him on her own. Although he hadn't experienced love yet, he knew that it always ended in tragedy. He believed some had it easier, had love tight under their belts. Relationships weren't something he spent his time on and it was an obligation to keep things that way. He needed a normal life. A simple, not complicated life. And he forever kept this secret to himself, living the motto everyday in middle and high school.

Until Bruce met Natasha Romanoff, a girl who swept him right off his feet, was anything _but_ normal, though she understood him better than anyone else did.

"I don't get it," she told him one time when they were hanging out at the Campus Coffeehouse. "I care about you and you don't even care that I do!"

This wasn't an ordinary hang out among friends, rather a very subtle way of breaking things off with her. He had foresight and saw the end play out in his head a million times; where he knew he couldn't love her how she wanted him to and eventually she would leave him. Bruce didn't need the heartbreak, the tears and the guilt. So he found a better solution: breaking up.

"Natasha," he said, noticing her green eyes widen. He didn't mean to sound so formal, but this required every ounce of strength he had. "I can't do this anymore. I'm not trying to be cliche or anything, but it's not you, it's me. I'll just hurt you more if we keep dating."

"You want us to stop seeing each other because you think you're hurting me?" she asked. "Bruce, you never hurt me and I apologize if I've been acting weird lately. It's...it's been a crazy couple a days, that's all."

"It was never about you, okay?" he told her. "You deserve to be happy with someone else who can love you properly."

He painfully watched as Natasha looked out the window. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "If that's what you want."

And she abruptly left him siting by himself at the table.

At night, he screams into his pillow, memories filtering through his mind. The visions come in many flashes, slow, becoming more rapid every second he's awake. Irritated, Bruce throws the pillow across the room and it knocks over a lamp. He feels like pulling his hair out. They won't stop and he's positive that his heart might explode.

Sometimes, the flashbacks are happy.

 _"You've never been partying before?" she asked, holding his hand as they ran towards the club._

 _He shook his head. "Nope, but I have been invited to a few of them."_

 _"Really?" she stopped and faced him when they stepped inside. Bright lights were flashing and music blasted loudly._

 _The smirk he gave made her weak in the knees. "Nah, though you thought that for a second, didn't you?"_

 _Natasha simply laughed and smiled. She dragged him out onto the dance floor and they had the time of their lives._

Sometimes, the flashbacks are sad.

 _He held her in his arms, letting her sob. It was hard to mourn the loss of a family member. Her mother had recently passed away and she wouldn't leave the solitary comfort of her dorm._

 _When all he hears are sniffles, he said to her, "It's okay, Nat. I'm here for you."_

 _"You sure about that?" she asked. She stared at him for a while, narrowing her eyes. Bruce figured she was having one of those mood whiplashes. It was the only plausible reason for why sad turned to angry._

 _"What?" he said. He remembers the last time she got like this and can't help but wonder why Natasha kept doing that._

 _They sat in silence, Natasha never once saying anything. Tears fell down her cheeks. Normally, he would wipe them away, but now? The only thing he was concerned about was when all these damn comments were said. He wouldn't leave her. Couldn't she understand that for once?_

 _"One day you're gonna leave me," she whispered. Natasha clenched her eyes shut. Seems she already knew the outcome. "I know you are."_

 _He knew he would too._

Bruce hops out the bed and runs towards the bathroom. Splashing water on his face doesn't relive his pain. While staring at his reflection, he makes the most ridiculous decision of his life.

 _'''_

Knock, knock, knock...

"What do you—Bruce?"

Natasha stares while leaning against her door frame. The bags under her eyes and the exasperated tone in her voice says it all. That maybe he isn't the only one wishing they didn't end things so soon. Or he could just be imagining (read: hoping) that was the case and he didn't run across campus for nothing. Either way, he came too far to back down now.

She's observing him as she hugs her thin purple robe closer to her body. Her eyes search his and the next thing he knows, she's moving out his way so he can come inside. When he enters the dorm, she shuts the door behind him.

The only source of light in the huge living room space is the T.V. A movie is currently playing, loudly he might add, until she grabs the remote off the coffee table and mutes it. He gulped. When you've known someone for a long time, you know absolutely everything about their habits. Bruce sees this as a signal; mute the T.V, get a lecture in return.

Natasha sits on the arm of the leather couch, waiting. Bruce awkwardly moves towards her, saying, "I miss you."

And his answer is simple, blunt even. He wouldn't admit this fear a day in his life. The woman _he_ broke up with, the one person who understood him, is the one person he truly misses.

She sighs and turns her head. "So you came back for me?"

"I think I did."

Natasha's voice picks up a little. "You never know what you want Bruce."

"I know that I still want what we used to have," he starts off, calmly, "I know you probably want nothing to do with me anymore either. But, I'm only asking for your friendship." Maybe he should have thought this through, but who thinks logically at two in the morning? Definitely not him.

Natasha simply shakes her head, secretly smiling. "You're a mess, you know that?"

He smirked. "Yeah but I'm your mess."

And they come to an agreement that maybe it is kinda impossible for them to date, that maybe being friends is better for both of them. Easier. However, he still asks the question she possibly never realized he'd ask.

"Who'd you think was at the door?"

Natasha makes the weirdest face; Bruce just knows what's coming. "Pardon?"

Bruce decides to play along. "You were about to yell before you saw it was me."

"Oh," she replies, fiddling with her thumbs, "I thought you were Steve."

"Why?"

She shrugs. "I thought he would come over and give me some pointers."

Bruce presses further. "About?"

She sighs. "About how I could become your friend again. I mean, you understand how much he values things like that, right? Lately, he's been concerned and giving me his advice. It's only in his best interest to try and set us up together. As friends."

"Right...Of course."

He finally finds the energy to move his feet and drags himself away from her. As she's opening the door and he begins leaving down the hall, Natasha runs after him.

"Bruce!"

He stops walking and faces her. "Yeah?"

"Steve and I are just friends, okay?"

Despite everything in his system telling him to jump up and down at this revelation, Bruce nods. "Okay."

Surprisingly enough, for one momentary second, she kisses him on the cheek.

And by the time he gets to his dorm, Bruce sleeps a lot better than he did before.


End file.
